My Winterstorm
by Whenever she is raging
Summary: Controlled by the Chitauri, Loki Odinsdóttir attempted to conquer Midgard, and failed horribly. Taken back to Asgard and thrown into a cell, stripped of her powers, it is only a matter of time until she escapes. (in which genderbent Loki is the main character)
1. Author's note

**_Hi guys! Thanks for bothering to read this :) Let me get a few things straight first though:_**

**_-Loki was born female. So nope, she didn't steal Sif's body._**  
**_-This is mainly based on the movies, though a bit of the myths is thrown into it as well._**  
**_-Spoiler alert: Thorki is not going to happen. My apologies if that's what you're looking for._**  
**_-All Chitauri AND Thanos died from that missile. Why? Because I don't like them._**  
**_-This is pretty much the story behind my Lady Loki on tumblr. At some point I might edit some of the threads and/or drabbles I've written over there to be posted over here._**  
**_-Last but not least: this was not beta'ed. My apologies for the mistakes that you probably will see._**


	2. Chapter 1

She had been fully aware of what she was doing.

There was a small voice in the back of her head, telling her what to do, advising, suggesting. Loki obeyed it without hesitation. The voice knew what it was talking about, always offering her solid reasoning to explain what it wanted her to do. It made sense, and she felt no need to worry about it.

It had been her ever-present companion, right until the green beast grabbed her by the leg and violently smashed her against the hard concrete floor, again and again. She lay there for almost an hour, paralyzed while her broken bones healed themselves. When she finally felt like she could move again, she slowly sat up, groaning in pain. Loki felt their eyes on her, heard their breathing, and turned to face them, carefully masking the fear and confusion that was threatening to tear her apart from the inside.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink now."


	3. Chapter 2

It had all gone quickly after that. Fury had attached the special handcuffs and muzzle himself, while all of his so-called heroes were surrounding them, prepared to attack if she tried to do anything. The devices blocked her most valuable assets: her infamous silvertongue and her ability to teleport. She had been told that they were enchanted by earth's best sorcerer, a man who had introduced himself as Dr. Strange. He was sitting on a chair near her cage, carefully watching her, a somewhat thoughtful look on his face. Loki vaguely felt like she would meet him again, but didn't care enough to worry about it.

Next to the sorcerer was a bald man in a wheelchair. He hadn't told her his name, or what he could do, but she supposed he had some kind of special abilities as well, otherwise SHIELD wouldn't have let him watch her. She couldn't read anything from his face, and after staring intently for a while she had given up, and settled for staring at a particular crack in the wall behind her glass cage.

She was leaning against the far back wall, resisting the urge to curl up in one of the corners. Little as it was, she still had some of her dignity left and she was not going to give it up. To keep herself from either crying or screaming in rage and pain and fear she focused on her hatred. Hatred against Fury and his obnoxious agents. Hatred against her brother, against Odin, against every single mortal on this stupid realm. She hated the monsters that had forced her into this, boldly ignoring the fact that it was still mostly her own fault.

The Chitauri may have given her the scepter, the purpose, sweet little lies when they welcomed her into their realm and most of all, the voice that she had obeyed, but she had known what she was doing. Loki chose to follow the commands she received from the Chitauri, even though she supposed she might have been able to ignore them. Might. They would certainly have found another way to get the fallen princess of Asgard to do their dirty jobs for them.

Loki wasn't a warrior. She wasn't the kind of person who sent an army to take over a realm. Subtlety was more her style. Loki had always preferred tricks, magic and deception to actual fighting, much to Odin's chagrin. It was not the way a true Aesir was supposed to fight. Only a coward, a weakling would use trickery to defeat someone instead of bravely facing them in combat. Those words had stung, and she had briefly attempted to be the person she was expected to be. A brave warrior like Sif, or a true lady, like her mother. She gave up quickly, knowing she would never be either of those. Loki was a sorceress.

She stood there for hours, perhaps days, Loki wasn't sure, until they came back for her. Fury unlocked her cage, and she was quickly surrounded by agents who escorted her to a heavily secured vehicle. The sorcerer and wheelchair man, whom she had started to think of as her silent companions, stayed by her side, right until the moment she was handed over to the Avengers. Loki refused to look at any of them, instead staring at a building in the distance.

It wasn't until Thor held out the box that contained the Tesseract to her, urging her to place a hand on it before she finally looked up at him. In his eyes she saw anger, hurt, betrayal, sorrow and something else, something she couldn't quite recognize. She reluctantly raised her left hand to hold onto the small container, her mind filled with both fear and sorrow as she thought of having to face Frigga. She didn't care about Odin, or at least told herself she didn't, but Loki would never be able to stop loving her mother. She had disappointed her once again, but this time was so much worse than the others, and she wasn't sure if she could ever make up for what she had done.

Those were the last thoughts on her mind before they disappeared from Midgard, using the Tesseract to return to Asgard. Home.


	4. Chapter 3

He hadn't been allowed to talk to her. SHIELD had been very specific. He could only watch, and as soon as she figured out what he was doing, he would have to leave. Don't talk, don't let her know what you do. Easy as that.

So he sat, and watched. Watched the caged animal, the pacing tiger, restless and afraid. He saw her struggle to remember, and felt her pain, her rage and her fear when she finally did. He watched her as she cried, weeping tears of agony, revolted by what she'd become. He felt the heat of her burning hatred, directed at those who had turned her into this, into this monster. She hated every single human, every single Jotunn, and every single Aesir. But that emotion paled in comparison to the hatred she felt against herself.

To anyone else, Loki looked bored, indifferent, as if she couldn't care less about being captured, but he could see past all of it. He could see the memories, the pleasant ones and her dark secrets, both carefully buried away, but not safe from him.

It was painful to see, heartbreakingly so. He no longer saw the villain who had attempted to take over his planet, ending lives as if they were worthless. He saw the woman who liked to read, who spent most of her time at the library. He saw the girl who would run for her mother, proudly announcing that she had learned something, a new enchantment, or improved her shapeshifting skills.

He saw her being scolded over and over again. Though it was not forbidden, sorcery was frowned upon. A true Aesir was supposed to be a brave warrior, fearlessly defeating their enemies in combat. Lies, deception and trickery were skills reserved for weaklings, fools, cowards. Why wouldn't she attempt to be a true warrior, like Sif? Or if she didn't want to be a warrior, then be a lady, like your mother, Loki.

He saw the determined look on the young woman's face as she removed anything related to sorcery from her chambers. He saw her as she went to the training room, dressed in battle attire, and asked her brother and his friends to train her. Loki lost every single practice fight and by the end of the week she was all sore and bruised, but she didn't care. Someday she would be like them, brave warriors, and her father would be proud of her. It had taken only a year until Loki lost her patience and used a trick to finally win from Thor. He ran into the wall behind the duplicate she had created, and when he turned around he was just in time to see his sister throw her sword onto the floor and run away, silent tears running down her cheeks.

The next day she was wearing a long, elegant dress, instead of the armor. She was suspiciously quiet during breakfast, and later that day she asked Frigga to teach her how to be a lady. Frigga had hugged her, saying that she wouldn't have to change. But Loki insisted. Odin had given her two options and she had failed the first. So she learned to sew, to make small talk with other people, and to play various musical instruments.

It wasn't until she subconsciously began to enchant the needle and thread to do the boring work themselves that she realized that this wouldn't work either. The simple tasks and mundane conversations made her feel empty, and Loki just couldn't bear the thought of having to live like this for eternity. She didn't show up for lunch that day. Or for dinner. He saw her as she was hiding in a shadowed corner of the palace library, crying silent tears until she fell asleep.

It was late at night when she woke up to a hand on her shoulder. Her first reaction was to pull away, but then she saw it was Sif, and Loki completely broke down. When she was finally done rambling, crying and complaining, Sif adviced her to do what she wanted to do. Sif was born to be a lady as well, but wanted to be a warrior. She struggled to prove herself worthy, to prove that a woman could fight just as bravely as a man. And if she could do that, then why couldn't Loki prove that magic wasn't for cowards? That it was an amazing skill and would be very useful in combat?

The next day she wore one of the simple, more comfortable dresses that she had always liked to wear before her attempts to be what Odin wanted her to be. Everybody could see the difference. She no longer looked empty and miserable. And when Thor announced that he would hunt for Bilgesnipe that day, and asked her if she wanted to join him and his friends on that hunt, she agreed. Armed with only the daggers she always carried around, Loki fought like never before, cleverly using her tricks and enchantments to defeat the beasts, having the time of her life.

Her joy didn't last long though. The next memory he found was one of Odin scolding Loki once again. She dutifully listened, not objecting to anything he said. When he was done, she simply asked if there was anything else he wished to discuss, and if not, might she be excused?

That was the moment when Loki Odinsdottir became Loki, goddess of lies and mischief. _I do what I want._

* * *

Charles was so concentrated on Loki's memories that he didn't notice the guards approaching until they opened the heavy doors and entered the room. They opened the cage, and surrounded the sorceress, who just shrugged and patiently waited for orders. They escorted her away, and Charles followed when his temporary partner, Stephen Strange, rose from his seat to follow. Just as Strange had passed, a few agents turned, asking him to report to the director. Director Fury was in a conference room, watching the life feed from the car they used to transport Loki. His heroes, the Avengers, were all seated along the large table, waiting for him to speak.

He briefly studied each of them. The one who intrigued him the most was Thor, the god of thunder, and brother of Loki. He was concerned about his sister, feeling responsible for what she had done, thinking it was mostly his fault. If he had treated her differently while they were younger, it might not have ended this way.

"Know your place, sister." "Silvertongue turned to lead?" "Only a coward would use trickery in combat." What had once seemed to be harmless mockery, now sounded like cruel words, directed at someone he loved, who had started to believe them. A coward, a burden, a stolen relic. It pained him to see how horribly wrong it had all gone.

This would be his only chance to attempt to help the woman. So Charles asked him to sit down, and told the young god what he had seen. He kept the memories he'd seen to himself though. He was against such unnecessary violation on someone's privacy, and thought it would be better if Loki told Thor about those when, if ever, she felt ready to do so.


	5. Chapter 4

Their journey didn't take long. It was just enough for her to magically replace her armor with an old black dress that matched her mood. She would not be allowed to wear armor in prison anyway, so Loki thought she should at least pick her own outfit then.

Only seconds later she could feel solid ground under her feet again, but hardly had the time to examine the location, for she was immediately surrounded by heavily armed guards. Thor stayed by her side as the muzzle was removed, Mjolnir in hand, ready to lash out if Loki chose to fight them. But she didn't. Why would she?

Loki straightened, looking as arrogantly as she could as she marched towards the palace, not paying any attention to the guards. She had never liked palace guards, obnoxious fools that they were. The throne room was more crowded than she would have liked. Present were Frigga, Odin, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. Even Heimdall had shortly taken a break from his duties to attend this event. It took her a while to understand why any of them, apart from her once-parents, would be there. _Why yes. The self-proclaimed victims of my previous attack._ She refused to look at any of them. _They wish to see me suffer, all of them. They would thoroughly celebrate my defeat, filthy traitors that they are. I cannot believe I once made the mistake to trust them._

Loki barely kept herself from screaming her insults at them, from snarling and hissing until she completely lost her voice. Many centuries of suppressing her emotions for the greater good allowed her to keep her arrogant expression in place. They didn't deserve to see her break down.

After everyone respectfully knelt for the All-Father with their right fist on their heart (while Loki just crossed her arms and glared), Thor began to speak.

"Father, mother, there are a few matters that need be discussed. It is most urgent."

Loki turned to look at him, eyebrows raised just a little. What could possibly be so important that it couldn't wait until after she was sentenced to death or whatever punishment she would receive?

* * *

It had been at least half an hour ago since Odin, Frigga and Thor had left to discuss whatever Thor deemed so important. Loki was growing more and more anxious by the minute. She fiddled with the long sleeves of her dress, unable to keep her hands still. It was better than the alternative, which would be to lose it completely and attempt to burn the building down.

Then finally, finally, they returned. Loki couldn't tell for sure from such a distance but the All-father looked less cold and angered than before, while she could tell from the faint redness around her mother's eyes that she had been crying. _Odd._

"Loki Laufeysdóttir, for..." he never got to finish his sentence. To hear him refer to her by that name was too much, and Loki just snapped. A dark green energy gathered around her as she shrieked in rage and fired random bolts of magic at the guards surrounding her, forcefully knocking them out of her way as she ran towards the throne, her voice reduced to a set of feral snarls.

She didn't make it far. Within seconds strong hands grabbed her arms, attempting to hold her back. Loki screamed every insult she could think of, the green energy swirling around her as she desperately tried to break free, but it was of no avail. Thor had always been stronger than her, and without her tricks, lies and magic she stood no chance against him. Nevertheless she continued to fight, barely hearing Odin's words over the sound of her own rage.

"...many have died at your hand..."

Loki smashed the back of her head into her brother's face, ignoring the sharp pain it caused her.

"Sentenced to prison..."

Thor's grip weakened for just a second, and she managed to yank one of her hands away, preparing for another spell.

"And in addition..."

She viciously clawed at his arm as he tried to grab her hand before she could cause any more damage.

"...a restriction to be placed upon your powers..."

Loki was about to blast the bolt of energy at Thor, lips curling up into a malicious grin when Odin firmly planted Gungnir against the ground, the sound of it echoing through the large room. Her smile turned into an expression of pure horror and panic as the radiant energy disappeared, leaving her completely defenseless. She shook her head, unwilling to believe it.

"No...n-n-no no NO!" Panic overtook her, and she could hardly see through the tears that were threatening to fall. She struggled once more, but then gave up, like an extinguished flame, the raging fires of hatred and anger finally replaced by sorrow and fear.

She glared at them long after the guards had dragged her out of the throne room, off to whatever dungeons they were about to throw her into.

Loki was harshly pushed into a cold, dark cell, stumbling once before crashing against the floor. She could hear the doors being closed and locked, as if she had any chance of breaking out in this state. She crawled over to a corner and finally burst into tears, crying until there were no tears left to spill. It was only then that she became more aware of her surroundings. It was completely dark, a single torch on the other side of her cell being the only source of light. The floor and walls were made of the same smooth stone, cold to the touch and plain.

The only object in the room was an old, dirty blanket, and Loki decided she would rather freeze to death than use it. But when she finally looked down at her own hands, she realized that that would be impossible for her; the cruel cold had turned her pale skin into a dark shade of blue. Oddly enough she no longer panicked at the sight. Her emotional outburst had left her drained and exhausted. She felt detached from herself, as if she was looking at someone else's hands. They didn't belong to her. They were the hands of Loki Laufeysdóttir.

But if she was neither Laufeysdóttir nor Odinsdóttir, then who was she?

_Who am I?_


	6. Chapter 5

Einnar, a young guard that had finished his training only decades ago, had been among the lukcy men assigned to guarding the dungeons that held the fallen princess of Asgard. On the tray he carried was a small plate filled with plain, tasteless food and a glass of water.

When he arrived at the cell, he almost thought she had managed to escape, until he noticed her small form in one of the darkest corners. The shadows, her black garments and dark hair hid her well enough. Einnar stomped a little while walking, making a bit of noise in order to gain her attention. Nothing. He coughed, trying again. This appeared to be more successfull. The princess slowly turned her head to look at him, and what he saw made him drop the tray. His own brown eyes were met by the blood-red eyes of a monster, the kind of monster he had heard so many tales of.

_Jotunn._

"You have a visitor," Einnar announced as he and five other guards approached the blue princess. It had been four months since he had first seen her like this, and he no longer flinched from the sight of her blue skin and red eyes. If Loki's Jotunn form disgusted them, he hid it well enough.

She didn't bother looking up, didn't acknowledge their presence at all. She didn't even move, not until he grew impatient and grabbed her arm in order to pull her up from the floor. The prince wished to visit his adoptive sister, and he wasn't particularly fond of waiting.

As they walked through through the dungeon halls and up a set of stairs, Loki's appearance gradually changed back into the Aesir form she had used almost her entire existence. Green replaced red, and a more common skin tone, although very pale replaced the blue.

The six guards bowed respectfully for the prince, the Odinson, temporarily letting go of the prisoner.

"Rise," was his reply, and they did. Einnar and another guard of his age both took one of Loki's arms and dragged her towards one of the wooden chairs. They had learned soon enough that while she did cooperate when they brought her there, she would refuse to move at all when near the Odinson. They would find her standing in the exact same spot and in the exact same stance as they left her when they were called to bring her back to her cell. The Odinson appeared to prefer it if they would leave her in one of the chairs, so he could sit down as well and at least pretend to have a normal conversation.

"We will be waiting outside, sire." They bowed again, and left the room. The guards would stand right next to the door, ready to storm in if the princess would try to attack or escape.

She was nothing but a ghost. A ghost of the person she once was. He visited her at least once a week, even though it only made him miserable.

"I brought you this from your chambers," Thor spoke after a moment of silence. He placed the soft green cloak on the table in front of her, hoping she would just take the garment. He had heard of how cold it could be in the dungeons, and still did not want her to suffer any more than necessary.

_Silence._

"Volstagg has asked Gunnar for his daughter's hand," he tried again, in another attempt to get his sister to talk to him. "Sadly, his offer has been declined. I am fairly certain he only refused because Svannhilder stubbornly refused to eat or rest until he did so. She's not quite unlike you, sister. Do you remember the archery training you both attended?"

_Silence._

"Loki..."

_Silence._

Thor made a few more attempts at engaging in conversation until he gave up. Every visit was exactly the same. He occasionally brought her something, which she refused to take. He would tell her of life outside of the palace and ask her simple questions, which she didn't answer to. Loki wouldn't talk to him, wouldn't even move unless it was to walk out of the visiting room when the guards returned to take her back to her cell. It was like visiting a statue.

With a sigh he stood, and quietly called for the guards.

Einnar and his colleagues bowed once more and took their prisoner's arm to pull her up from the chair, knowing she would not move until the Odinson was out of her sight.

Loki waited until the guards left her alone before crawling back to the dark corner she always stayed in until they forced her to face Thor once more.

She patiently waited for her body temperature to drop, no longer dreading the moment she would shift into Laufeysdóttir's form. Over the months she had learned that there were more benefits to that than she had initially thought. The corners of her mouth twitched a little when she no longer felt the cold. She was ready to start her training.

Loki closed her eyes and turned all her attention to her left hand. She thought of ice, cold, frozen ice. Dark caves with icicles hanging from the ceiling, the smooth surface of ice covering a lake. _Colder. Colder._

She could feel the cold, no, she was the cold. She was the ice princess, the Laufeysdóttir. _Colder. Colder._

A sudden vision of a frozen temple flashed before her eyes. _Laufeysdóttir._

Loki's eyes snapped open and she gasped for air, her expression one of terror and panic. It took her a few minutes to calm herself enough to finally look at her hand to see if she had succeeded this time.

Her palm was covered by a thick layer of ice.

Loki smiled, briefly looking like her old self again.

_Your prisons cannot hold me._


End file.
